The Other Son
by Bloodpage-Alchemist
Summary: Epilogue told the truth about Terry's identity but he isn't the only one affected by it; his younger brother was too. Matt isn't fit to be Batman or Robin, but he can be something else just as important if he can get over his fears.
1. Chapter 1

**1.**

"You know, at your age, I wasn't half as skilled with computers, let alone hiding from people for so long without being tracked." It was quiet, the voice at the apartment door.

He had known the old man was alone; had known when he was a few blocks away from the building, as a matter of fact. It didn't make the actuality of having another person there any easier. He looked away from the small window, his expression and tone neutral, "Mr. Wayne. Why have you decided to grace me with your presence? Shouldn't you be supervising my brother? If not, I would think you would be making sure your business is running smoothly. Both things are done in _Gotham_, not here in Bludhaven. And even if by some chance your company brought you to this city, it wouldn't bring you to this particular section or apartment."

Bruce stared at the younger man, unsure of what to think. Matthew McGinnis, from the first impression of the young adult and the young boy he remembered, was _nothing _like his older brother. He tried to push the thought that had compared the two aside. "I trust him to run the city by himself for one night." The apartment was... crowded with all kinds of things and shabby, to say the least. The neighborhood was worse than Gotham's Crime Alley. And yet, somehow, despite the younger man obviously living alone, Bruce knew that nobody bothered Matt McGinnis.

There were six monitors on the desk, and Bruce could see a few laptops on the floor--all top of the line, things that Bruce's own company didn't even have yet. He also saw different mechanical things, all sorts of machines, some moving, that he had never seen before. "You're not in school... you're not employed... and I believe you haven't actually been _seen_ outside of your apartment in... quite some time." Was the younger one a criminal, despite all his brother stood for? How could he afford this stuff otherwise?

"I don't like it outside," Matt said, shrugging with a casualness he did not feel. "I've done some stuff on the stock market, it keeps the rent paid. I've done some work for different companies. The days I sleep, nights I'm working or playing games or watching a program or something. Got my degree in computer science from a school on the web, get things that I need like clothes and food through the internet. I don't need help with anything, money, shelter, computers, all that I'm fine."

"It was you," Bruce said, realizing something and he was impressed by the knowledge. "You were the person who hacked onto my system, the person who left that video feed, when Terry's suit camera broke, so I could direct him even though his suit view was broken."

"He's my brother. I'm in Bludhaven, that doesn't mean I can't keep watch." He indicated the monitor to the far left, directly under the window. Even there, Bruce could see a split screen of Batman--one in infrared, one in normal color. "I make sure Terry's safe. Technology can do wonders for things like that. Amazing huh?"

"He hasn't seen you since--"

"Since Mom died," Matt interrupted softly. "I don't know... something in me just broke. I wasn't really close to Dad, and Terry was always working, so for Mom to be killed..." The young man trailed off then continued, "I thought it was Terry's fault. I thought someone _knew_ he was Batman and was trying to hurt him. I'd been kidnapped before, to get to Terry... so I left. Gotham needs a Batman, but Batman doesn't need a weight like me to hold him down."

"You knew."

"For a while before Mom's death, yes, I knew my brother's secret."

Bruce was unsure of what to say--a rare thing. He never had that problem with Terry... but perhaps he could try to make Matt contact his brother. "You're not a weight to him. He misses you--looks for you constantly."

"... Why are you here, Mr. Wayne? I know it's not just to try and get me back in Gotham. You think I _want_ Terry to see me like this? A waste of life, a good-for-nothing loner who's doing nothing, going nowhere..." Matt glared at the man, angry. It made Bruce curious, the sudden change in emotion but not tone. "I should die, but I can't commit suicide because I'm too much of a coward. And I can't go outside because of the same reason. Why are you here, what do you want?"

"We recently... found out that Terry is my biological son..." Bruce stopped, unsure of how Matt would take this.

The younger man didn't even flinch, "I wondered where Terry and I got our looks from. Genetically, we never resembled either of them. I hope you won't be insulted if I continue to refer to Warren McGinnis as my father because to me he always will be, even though I didn't know him well." Matt forced himself to stop babbling. Not having social contact with anyone else in months... maybe years now... it had that effect. He had wondered if he had been forgetting English because of it. He really had to get a part time job, something, _anything_ to get him out of the apartment...

"No... I don't mind. I've worked with Terry every day for the last few years, but I don't know you at all." Bruce looked at Matt and saw the boy's eyes were unfocused. He was miles away, mentally... "Matt."

"Huh?" Matt jumped and shook his head, "Sorry, I was just thinking. Did you say something?"

"... How long has it been since you talked to someone?"

"I don't know. A long time, months, years, I don't know anymore. I go out to the park sometimes, late at night or really early in the morning, when nobody's there. I don't _like_ going outside, I told you that." Matt said, looking back at the small window. "They make fun of me outside, I _hear_ them, whispering, talking about how odd I am... the old people and business people all of them... I hear it and I can't take it, so I don't go outside when people are there." Matt didn't turn around to look at the older man.

Bruce spoke, imploringly, "If you come to Gotham, we can get help--"

The soft sound of a laptop being closed and a sigh, "How can you help me when even _I_ don't know what's wrong with me_?_" Matt slumped into his computer chair and looked back at the older man, "Just leave me alone. You did your duty as biological father. Your younger son is an anti-social freak. Go back to Terry."

Bruce stayed where he was, mind racing through various disorders and the like. Any particular disorders would have been picked up when he was a child. This... was something else. A disorder, yes, but he couldn't be sure what kind. "You said you go to the park sometimes."

"Yes."

"... May I go with you tonight?"

Matt shrugged, "I don't care what you do, Mr. Wayne." He looked out the window for a few moments, then stood up and left the apartment, Bruce Wayne right behind him.

It was a dark night, and the two strode on, silent. The city lights glittered, the police sirens were heard over the usual city noises. Finally, as they reached the park and walked, no people bothering them, Bruce said, "I won't live forever, you know."

Matt gave him an odd look and said with a shrug, "Everyone dies."

Bruce shook his head--the boy wasn't reacting like Terry, at least, who seemed to be clinging to Bruce and Dana, hunting for his brother every spare second. Terry had lost a lot, and he didn't want to lose any more. Bruce could understand that, though he wasn't young. He knew his time would come soon enough. "He needs someone to watch out for him. You know the truth about him... you can look out for him after I'm gone."

Matt looked at Bruce and laughed, shaking his head, and saying, "He has Max and Dana. He doesn't need me for that." He looked at his feet and said softly, "He doesn't need me, Mr. Wayne."

Finally, Bruce decided to go for broke, "Your apartment had different machines. Do you develop them for fun?"

"Yeah..." Matt looked at Bruce as if the man had grown a second head.

"You've played the stock market, you said?"

"Yes." Matt didn't understand where this was going.

"Nothing else?"

"I've done some work for different companies, in research and financial advising," Matt said, wondering why the man cared about boring things like that. Why would the former Batman care about business matters? "They were fine with working by digital means."

Bruce nodded, "Strayer Pharmaceuticals, Greene Biomechanisms--companies like that... and all of them were failing, yet now they could be considered rivals to my company. You've got a good head for business and tinkering." Softly, Bruce continued, "Foxtech is an excellent company. Lucius Fox Jr. is a good man, like his father, but unlike his father, he can't help Terry." Bruce looked at Matt and said, "Max can help him, you're right. But Batman will need funding. Terry is a good Batman, but he needs other people... even I wasn't as alone."

Matt stared at Bruce and slowly, because he couldn't believe this, said "You... want _me..._ to run Wayne Enterprises."

"Yes. I want someone trustworthy, someone who can keep the business running well, someone willing to develop new things as we need them... someone who can finance things. I won't live forever, but I know now that the legacy I began will. It cannot be only one person, though." Bruce looked at Matt and said, "I cannot develop things as fast, make sure Terry is safe, and keep my eye on the company... I can't do everything. Before, I could... but not now."

"I can't," Matt said, thinking about all of the people he would have to see... the cameras... everything... "I want to help, but I can't be what you need. I can't do it."

"You haven't even tried," Bruce snarled. "He risks his life every night, the least you can do is let me _try_ to help your ailment and try your hand at running the company! You're family too."

Matt's hands clenched, but he said nothing, opting instead to continue walking. Bruce knew he had hit a nerve, though, and that allowed him to see another difference in the two brothers; Terry's anger was hot, fiery and he tended to get excited and shout. Matt was the opposite--cold anger, that didn't control him. He had noticed that back in the apartment as well.

He stayed inside, didn't really like people... This was acute social withdrawal. And usually, therapy helped with it, though Bruce wasn't exactly very social himself. "I can help you," Bruce said to the retreating figure, his voice soft. "But you have to trust me."

Matt stopped walking and finally he said, his voice just as soft and low as Bruce's had been, "If you can't... and if this doesn't work out... you'll leave me alone? If I try it for a bit and it doesn't work, I won't be bothered?"

"...Yes."

"Then I'll try." Matt looked at Bruce and then the two walked again, silence reigning between them, Matt's thoughts chasing each other frantically, but one kept popping up: he had agreed to return to Gotham. Return to where he had seen his mother killed, to the city where his brother patrolled, the place where he had grown up. For the first time in a few years, Matt was going ... home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2  
**  
A footstep and a creak...

Matt's hand grabbed a throwing knife, one of a set that he kept on his bedtable and hurled it at the sound, even as he sat up and opened his eyes. Bruce had just barely missed getting hit in the shoulder with the knife. He stared at Matt and raised an eyebrow as the younger man groaned and tried to go back to sleep. "Good instincts," Bruce said, looking at the knife embedded in the wall. "Good throw."

Soft snores were his reply. "Wake up." Bruce said, walking towards the bed. "It's already seven." At the continued snores, the old man raised his cane and gave Matt a sharp rap on the head.

_"OW!"_ Matt snapped, sitting up despite his exhaustion. "Whaizit?" He asked, yawning and rubbing his head.

"Time to wake up."

"Nuh-uh," Matt muttered, "Sun's out. Sleep." He tried to do so, but Bruce's cane found his head again. "Why...?"

"You need to adjust your sleep schedule." Bruce said softly. "I won't stop you being up nights, but you have to be up in the days."

Matt just yawned and Bruce took a look around the bedroom. Unlike the shabby living room, in here it was neat and orderly. A punching bag, a rowing machine, and weights were in one corner; a wardrobe in the other; and some old paper books on a shelf--Bruce didn't see those often in this digital age. "You work out?"

"Uh-huh..." Matt stretched and looked at Bruce. "Why did you pick me again?" he asked.

Bruce stared at him and said, " Because I want someone trustworthy, who can keep the business running well, who is willing to develop new things as we need them and who can finance things as well. And, well, you're... you're... my other son." Bruce stood, "Get ready. We're getting breakfast."

"I've some stuff in the kitchen," Matt offered.

"Don't make me sick. I saw what's in your kitchen. That can't be defined as suitable for human consumption." The older man left.

Matt didn't bother trying to understand the old man. So what if ramen was in all of his cabinets and he had tv meals in the freezer? He had cereal and milk, the guy could've just poured a bowl. How could anyone _not_ like Cocoa Puffs? He groaned and walked over to his corner of workout things. He was _not_ used to being up during the day, and he was exhausted... but he didn't want Bruce Wayne's cane to hit him again.

Finally finished his workout, Matt grabbed an outfit and took a shower, earning a disapproving look from Bruce. "You can't be serious."

"What now?" Matt asked, looking at his clothes. Jeans and a shirt seemed fine for breakfast...

"Have you heard of something called an iron?" Bruce asked, glaring at the outfit. Matt had a vision of a General scrutinizing his men before battle and felt a flash of pity for those people who had dealt with Bruce Wayne in his prime... though _they_ didn't get hit with canes...

Like Matt just had again. "What's in your wardrobe?"

"Ow... come on..." He showed Bruce his outfits and the old man just shook his head.

"Fine. Clothes shopping too."

"_What_? I don't do shopping in person..." Matt shook his head, "No."

Before an argument could break out, a knock on the front door stopped them. Matt sighed--from never seeing people to having another person knock? He opened the door and his eyes widened--a man with shoulder-length graying hair stood there... tan, eyes that seemed to know things... he quickly shut the door, causing Bruce to quirk an eyebrow. "Who is it?" Bruce asked, as Matt ran through the apartment quickly cleaning.

"Commission Grayson," Matt hissed, tossing everything into a large plastic bin he happened to have.

"Commiss--_Grayson_? Dick Grayson?" Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow.

Matt gave him a glare, "You knew everything, I thought? Yes, Commission Richard Grayson. Here. At my apartment. Not. Good."

Bruce opened the door as Matt cleaned, "Hello Dick." It was said softly.

"Bruce." Dick inclined his head, "Is Matthew McGinnis here?"

Bruce turned, "He's panicking a bit, trying to clean. Rather rude of him, shutting the door in your face like that..."

Matt slowed and looked at Dick, "I-I'm s-sorry..."

"It's fine," Dick murmured, seeing the young man was obviously panicked. "I came because Bruce here doesn't travel into Bludhaven much. This is _my_ city, my territory. I don't need help with it." This was said to Bruce, a glare on Dick's face. "And Matt's a citizen of _Bludhaven_. You can't come in and ruin his life." Dick looked at Matt, "You don't have to listen to him."

Matt blinked, looking at the two who were glaring at each other. They obviously knew each other... and Dick seemed to really not like Bruce. Why? The thought made him curious, but he remained silent, instead thinking about what the man had said. Dick Grayson was right; he _didn't_ have to do this. But he had agreed to try. Nervous, scared... but if his brother could risk his life every night, then Matt had to at least _try_.

"I don't have to," Matt agreed softly. "But I want to." He swallowed hard, trying to not show his fear and looked at Bruce, "You said we had plans...?"

Bruce stared at Matt and nodded--he knew the younger man was scared, and he knew that this approach probably wasn't the best one to take. Taking a person who hadn't seen people in so long and, essentially, just throwing them back in society? It really wasn't a good idea... but Bruce had hope. Matt hadn't always been this way, and he _had_ agreed to try. Stubborn in his own way, but willing to compromise in others; it made the man relieved.

"We're going to breakfast and buying clothes," Bruce said, looking at Dick. "Would you like to come along?"

"I would _love_ to," Dick snarled, glaring at Bruce.

Matt looked at his feet; it was his fault. He was stupid, just like everyone said, worthless stupid, weird... if he didn't exist, the two of them wouldn't be fighting right now... Everything was his fault because he was too weak and--

_WHAP._

"Ouch!" Matt yelped, rubbing his head. Once again, a hit courtesy of Bruce Wayne's cane.

The old man stared at him, "You were zoning out, eyes moving all around. What were you thinking?"

Matt looked down and remained silent.

_"What were you thinking?" _But nothing, not even another whap from Bruce's cane, could make him answer. Finally, deciding he'd get it from the young man later, Bruce gently ushered Matt out of the apartment. Bruce could see the look of concern on Dick's face and was glad; he may not like Bruce much, but Dick still cared about those in need.

The three were walking and Dick leaned over, murmuring softly to Bruce, "What's wrong with him?"

"Acute social withdrawal, from what I've observed," Bruce replied back, just as low. They reached a diner, and, having some pity for Matt (the younger man was already looking like he wanted to run away), Dick requested a private booth in the back. The waitress complied, giving Matt a wide smile as she did so. Matt blushed and ducked his head, covering it with the menu.

It was a silent meal, none of the three speaking. Dick noticed Matt seemed to be drifting off to sleep every so often, but a sharp prod from Bruce's cane had him up. Dick tried not to let his smile show--he felt sorry for the young man that had a Bruce Wayne with nothing else to do except 'fix' Matt... and had a cane. Bruce in his prime was too concerned with his mission to care about other people.

They finished and Bruce dragged Matt clothes shopping, to get him 'suitable attire.'

"What's wrong with my clothes now?" Matt asked, voice quiet.

Bruce glared, "For one, they're wrinkled. For another, you need to be dressed properly at all times--even casual wear. It's part of the act."

"But... If I'm always acting, when can I be me?" The question was so low that Dick barely heard it, and he was sure that Bruce hadn't, due to the old man talking to the tailor. Dick watched, amused a bit, as Matt slowly backed away. He _was_ good--very stealthy, very quiet... had his brother trained him a bit?

Matt had managed to reach the door of the store, before the evil cane struck him. But he didn't care--there were too many _people_, he had to _get out now_. And so he did, running as fast as he could, faster than Bruce or even Dick. Matt was fast and efficient, jumping over cars and other things as he escaped. Dick raised an eyebrow, impressed and out of breath, "Did he practice parkour or something?"

Bruce shrugged, "He'll be at his apartment. Call a cab." The man looked at his watch, "We left at eight. He lasted outside for a bit over an hour before breaking."

Dick nodded, "You've got your work cut out for you." And for once, he was glad that Bruce was so stubborn. "I have to get to the office... but I'm not going to stand by while this kid goes down this road alone." Dick gritted his teeth a moment, but managed to say, "If you need me, give me a call." With that he strode off, after hailing a cab for his former mentor.

Bruce stared after him and got into the cab, thinking. Dick had been the first person he had ever taken in, and nobody would ever be able to tell... Dick didn't like him, didn't care for him... because Bruce had put everything else first.

Tim? He had been tortured because of Bruce... and then, instead of showing confidence in the boy's ability and letting him continue as Robin, Bruce had forbidden it, forcing him into a normal life. Tim didn't talk to him anymore either...

Barbara had been so dear to him... and now? Another man had her heart and hand in marriage, and she too didn't talk to him. She barely tolerated Terry, and sometimes Bruce longed for the days when her father had been Commissioner...

Speaking of Terry... the boy was so much like Dick when he was younger. Caring, impetuous, _stubborn_... but more stubborn than Dick. He had _made_ Bruce care for him, had taken the mantle despite Bruce not wanting to give it up... his _son,_ flesh and blood... They got along, though Terry swore Bruce didn't really trust him. This trip, Bruce hoped, would prove otherwise. Terry didn't know Bruce had gone to get Matt--he thought Bruce was doing smaller business matters.

And then... the last one... Matt himself. An enigma and more like Bruce than any of the others, in his own way. For one, at the age of ten, the boy had been kidnapped to get to Terry... alone a lot, due to the two other people working... and then to _see_ his mother killed in front of him. His response though, had been the opposite of Bruce's; Matt had picked running away. Bruce had chosen to fight...

Except he could see some of himself and Terry in Matt. The reaction this morning to a strange person had shown that instinct _was_ there, even though Matt's mind was still in a sleep-haze state. So though Matt seemed to prefer flight, not fight, it was obvious that, if his back was to the wall, he was capable of the second option.

Bruce looked out the window; they were nearing the apartment. He wasn't sure of his chance of success with Matt--after all, Bruce himself had never fully recovered after the deaths of his parents. He had become a vigilante, had become the Dark Knight, the Batman... a legacy that was being continued even now. He could hardly remember what his 'normal' life had been like; much happier, though... and he was sure that Matt was similar in that aspect. But Bruce had that advantage--he knew that Matt, like himself, would never really be whole ever again.

He let himself into the apartment. He could hear the snores from Matt's bedroom, but he left the young man alone. Bruce had other arrangements to worry about--like their flight from Bludhaven to Gotham. All of the things he had bought for Matt, since Bruce knew his measurements, were being sent to Wayne Manor. Bruce knew he could keep working on Matt here in Bludhaven, but he also knew that he had to unite the two brothers.

He also knew that it was sometimes easier to rip off the band-aid instead of being slow and dragging out the pain. And if Matt was going to take up the very public role that Bruce intended... it was going to be easier to rip off the "band-aid of comfort" that was Bludhaven. Matt knew the city well, and had a place to run to.

He wouldn't have that in Gotham. And Bruce sighed, hating what he was planning for the young man, but knowing it was necessary. He picked up the phone and began making some phone calls in order to set his plans in motion.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Matt was sitting on his bed, the sun setting. He could hear Bruce on the phone, but he didn't want to bother the man. Actually, truth be told, he didn't want to see the man. He brought change with him, and Matt wasn't stupid. The man wanted to bring him to Gotham because then there would be nowhere for Matt to go.

The young man looked at the cell phone he kept on his bed-table. Bruce was still talking. Good. He didn't know Matt had kept in touch with someone in Gotham. Someone who had kept quiet about his location, who had loaned him money when Matt had said he had to leave... someone who had cared for his brother when he could not.

Matt hadn't just run off, after all. He had settled some things first before doing so. He hadn't told Terry, though. His brother would have tried to stop him, to bother him, to "talk sense" into him, something along those lines. Matt had needed escape, not someone to hover about him. He couldn't be there. He was a burden, a possible hostage... another way to break the Batman. He wasn't going to bring his brother down with him.

He shook his head, clearing it from the thoughts he had been having, and flipped open the phone, sending a text message to his sole non-professional contact in Gotham. It stated simply, _'I'm coming back._'

The reply was immediate. _'About time.'_

Matt repressed a chuckle and wrote back, _'How is he?'_

_'How do you think?'_

Good point. He had a pretty good idea about Terry's state of mind, but he liked to ask. Matt heard Bruce's footsteps. _'I have to go. I'll text you when I'm in your city.'_

_'We'll have to have lunch. Or dinner. Private booth and all that. Take care.'_

Bruce stared at the phone as Matt slipped it into his pocket. "Talking to a friend of yours?" Bruce inquired.

"You could say that," Matt said quietly.

Silence for a while before Bruce went back to the other room. Matt looked around and sighed, thinking. Why had he agreed to this stupid deal? For his brother. All for his brother... the young man sighed and walked to the other room. "When do we leave?" he asked.

"Tonight," Bruce replied. "I made all the arrangements while you slept. Pack up your things. The boxes are in the other room." He left, Matt looking after him, wondering if he should run away... if he should leave..

But no. He had given his word. The worst case scenario... he'd quit and come back. A few months, that's all... He could try... Matt sighed and went into his living room, wincing--it was empty except for boxes. A truck was outside. Bruce _had_ been busy. Matt sighed and went back to his room, dragging the boxes with him. He began with his clothes, folding them and placing them in a box. Every time he placed something in, it felt like he was taking away a part of himself and putting it away.

Bruce came back to the door, holding an outfit, "I'll finish packing your things in here. Take a shower, this is what you're going to wear."

Matt wordlessly took the suit and did as Bruce had commanded. He felt numb, and that was good, because he knew that if he stopped to think, if he stopped and realized what he was doing, he'd probably start screaming or running.

He finished his shower, running on automatic as he got ready and went back into his now-empty apartment. Bruce nodded approvingly at him, and Matt noticed Dick standing there.

"You're leaving tonight, then," Dick said quietly. He looked at Matt closely and said, "I found your phone number on our database." He called Matt who looked at the phone, "Now you have mine. Give me a call, email, anything, if you need me or want to chat. If you don't, I'll just keep bothering you until you do."

Matt nodded, saying nothing, and that worried Dick even more. First Bruce had gotten some kid to replace him as Batman... and that, Dick could handle. Terrance McGinnis _chose_ to become Batman, despite people trying to convince him otherwise. And, surprisingly, he had managed to do the job.

But Matt... didn't ask for this. Bruce went to him, disrupted his life. Dick didn't like it at all, but... Matt wasn't fighting it. Matt didn't like it, that was obvious, but he had agreed...

"Don't worry," Matt told Dick, startling the man from his thoughts. "It's just a trial... if I'm okay with it... then I'll stay. If not, at least I tried."

Dick slowly nodded and said, glaring at Bruce defiantly before looking back at Matt, "There's a man there named Tim Drake. If it gets to be too much, go look him up. Mention that I sent you, he'll understand."

Matt nodded, relief evident on his face. _Two_ places to run to... he could work in Gotham now. "Thank you."

"Let's go," Bruce said in his usual growl.

"Goodbye," Matt murmured to Dick. "I'll... I'll keep in touch." With that and a nod, he followed Bruce. Dick watched them enter a car, worry etched on his face even as he waved goodbye. Bruce... wasn't exactly the winner of the "father of the year" award, Dick knew that first-hand, so another young person under his guidance made Dick uneasy. But... could Bruce help Matt? Could his stubbornness and discipline help Matt?

Or... would Matt just be able to _act_ as if he were better? Dick's eyes widened in realization and horror.

Matt already saw himself as a burden. Of course it'd be an act. He'd do whatever Bruce said, because he wanted to help his brother. And Dick knew that Bruce would manipulate that--he already had, to get Matt to agree.

Matt would break inside and not care, not notice, until it was too late. And Dick wasn't going to let that happen. He dialed a number and immediately it was picked up, "Hey Dick."

"Hey," Dick said quietly, an idea forming in his head. "I think we're going to need to gather the old crowd. There's a guy who needs our help."

"What happened?"

"Bruce is getting his claws into someone else," Dick said softly.

The said man was looking at Matt, who was looking down at his hands. Finally, after about an hour of silence, the younger man said, "Will my brother be there, when we get back?"

"I doubt it. It's his anniversary with Dana," Bruce replied. "And we're going right to a fundraiser dinner."

Matt stared at Bruce, sickening realization on his face as he processed that statement. "No..." Matt whispered, imagining it. "You didn't, _please_..."

Bruce didn't turn or answer, not even when Matt began to shiver violently, unable to stop himself.

This was hell. Matt had signed up for hell. That thought made him moan, a moan of pain and sheer misery...

And then Bruce whacked him on the head with his cane. "We won't stay long," Bruce said as Matt just stared at him blankly. "An hour or so. You'll be attending a lot of these, I want you to get used to it."

"I'll _never_ get used to them," Matt whispered, staring out the window. "I don't want this..."

Bruce glared at the younger man's back and said, softly, "And you think I did?"

Matt turned back, confusion obvious on his face as he looked at Bruce.

"I was the Dark Knight," Bruce murmured quietly, looking at Matt steadily. "I still call myself it, when I talk to myself. Do you think that I wanted to be something that I wasn't? Fit into a mold of being an idiot playboy when there were people who needed me? People were suffering, and I had to sit and smile and I _hated_ it." Bruce was surprised at how honest he was being with Matt, but now that he had started, he couldn't stop, "I hated every second of it. And then, even when I _was_ doing what I loved... I was judged. I was _harsh_, I was _amoral_, I was dark and brooding..." He shut his eyes and murmured, "I hated one mask and was hated when I was being my true self. And after all was said and done, I still ended up alone. My best was never good enough, for either life."

Matt looked at Bruce, really _looked_... and realized that perhaps Bruce understood better than he had thought. Alone, both of them, because of who they were.

"We won't stay long?"

"No," Bruce confirmed. "I don't like parties."

Matt slowly smiled and looked out the window. He was still nervous and a wreck, but... that was okay. Because in the end, he knew Bruce was just like him. Both of them were weird, and that made this ordeal a little, tiny bit better.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

All too soon, the car was parking in front of a _massive_ skyscraper. Matt repressed a shudder, barely, and left the car with Bruce. He couldn't keep focused--too many _people_ in this stupid room... too many introductions and he wanted to run right _now..._

And then...

"Matt?" It was a familiar voice, one he had heard many times in his interactions with businesses. The young man looked up, blinking--there stood Lucius Fox Junior, head of Foxtech. Bruce was busy talking to other people, and Lucius came over to Matt, "I didn't think you came out much."

"I don't," Matt admitted, shifting uncomfortably.

Lucius noticed and looked around, "Come on, let's talk on the balcony, less people."

_Less people equals excellent._ Matt followed the man. Less was putting it mildly--nobody was here! And he could see why--it was rather cold. Lucius didn't seem to mind too much, and Matt didn't mind being cold. Better a bit cold than with all of those _people_.

"So what dragged you out?" Lucius was genuinely curious. "You're usually pretty stubborn about not coming to the companies. I know." He grinned, and Matt did the same, remembering the few times he had worked with Foxtech. He had gotten along well with Lucius--the man had never pressured him to come in person, both of them had similar mindsets in building things, and Lucius had even said he envied Matt's freedom.

Matt thought about the answer to Lucius's question and figured the legitimate reason would work. "Bruce Wayne wants me to run his company."

"Seriously?" Lucius's eyes widened and then he blinked, "Any idea why?"

"My brother's an idiot and can't do finances." At Lucius's laugh, Matt gave a small smile and said, "Mr. Wayne heard about the work I did. Figured that it wouldn't hurt to have both of us, I guess."

"Well, better than worrying about having your brother as a rival, I suppose." Lucius slowly grinned, "So you're going to be the new CEO of Wayne Enterprises."

"It's a test period. You know how I am with people..." Matt looked at the city skyline, silent, and said, "I can't even do parties like this, I can only imagine the meetings..."

Lucius nodded and said quietly, "Well, you know how I feel about being the head of my company..." He paused and grinned, "How about a deal?"

"A deal?" Matt looked at Lucius and blinked, confusion evident.

"Sure. If you get through this test period and become the CEO... then Foxtech becomes part of Wayne Enterprises."

Matt whirled, staring at Lucius, "WHAT?!" Foxtech was one of the few companies that actually gave Wayne Enterprises _competition!_

"I'm not finished." Lucius smiled at Matt's obvious disbelieving face, "I'd like to work in your development department. We both know that I always enjoyed Research and Development far more than leading a company."

Matt slowly smiled and said, "Your father was Mr. Wayne's right hand, and he got to run the company."

"I don't want that," Lucius replied immediately. "Just the first bit."

"Why would you do that?" Matt asked quietly, not believing that Lucius would let go of his company so easily.

The other man looked at the skyline and back at Matt, "Mr. Wayne's always been a friend of our family. And you... I trust you. You could have messed my company up tons of times, but each time you were honest and decent. You never lied to me, never hid money for yourself. Your past actions speak for themselves, and Mr. Wayne obviously trusts you. That's good enough for me to know that my employees will still have jobs and I'll have my old freedom back."

Matt opened his mouth to say something, but jumped as his phone beeped. He opened it and smiled at the message from his sole non-business contact. _'Is lunch at noon tomorrow okay?'_

"Excuse me a moment," he said to Lucius, who nodded. _'Where?'_

_'Gotham Bar and Grill. I'll set up a reservation for a private booth in the back.'_

'That's fine. See you there.' He hung up and looked at Lucius, thinking about this offer long and hard. Lucius was brilliant, no doubt about that. Having his mind in the company would be excellent, and he developed tons of things. It'd make business sense _and_ chances were that he'd have ideas for things that would assist Terry. It was a win-win... if Matt could last. "All right. _If_ I become CEO, I'll take you on your word."

Lucius grinned, "Then let's shake on it."

As the two did so, a woman came out onto the balcony. Both men turned to look at her, obviously confused. She was attractive; she had long blond hair that was curled, bright blue eyes, a slender figure, and was dressed in an ivory evening gown. "It's so hot in there," she said, fanning herself dramatically. "So you must be the Matthew McGinnis that Mr. Wayne keeps talking about." This was directed at Matt.

"That's Daisy Ramsey," Lucius murmured quietly into Matt's ear. "She's a reporter for the Times. Be careful around her."

Matt gave a small nod of his head and then said to Daisy, "Yes, ma'am, I am."

She smirked and gave a flip of her hair, "So what qualifies you to be the future CEO of Wayne Enterprises, Mr. McGinnis?"

Matt could see that Lucius didn't like this woman, and seeing as the man was the only other person he knew, he figured he'd end this fast. He schooled his face--a slight smirk and his eyes seemed to sparkle with mischief--and said, his voice light, "Keep watching and you'll figure it out, I hope."

Lucius couldn't help the snort of laughter, and Daisy seemed furious, but another voice interrupted, "Matt, are you ready?"

Bruce was there, looking at the scene. He had been there since Daisy Ramsey had come outside. He was forcing himself not to smile. So Matt could act a little bit. That was good. Bruce had been looking at the clock--they had been there for two hours, and he knew Matt couldn't have run away. So he could last at parties if he was with someone, slightly apart from the main hub. Bruce tucked that bit of knowledge away as Matt nodded and looked at Lucius.

"I'll talk to you later."

"Count on it. Maybe lunch or something in a few days."

Matt grinned, "That'd be great." He looked at Daisy, "Have a nice night." With that, he followed after Bruce.

The two entered the car and as they went, Bruce glanced at Matt, "So you knew someone?"

He nodded, "I've worked with Lucius a few times." He paused and looked at Bruce, the look on his face apprehensive, "He made a deal with me."

"Hm?" Bruce glanced at him.

"That if I become CEO, Wayne Enterprises will get Foxtech, and Lucius will work as head of Research and Development."

"You took him up on it?"

Matt shrugged, "If I can last, it'd be a good deal."

"I agree." Bruce said nothing, until they got to the manor, getting out and showing Matt his suite of rooms. "These are yours, use them however you want, and you can go in and out through the side." He showed Matt the entrance to his suite. "Any questions?"

The young man shook his head.

"Good. Tomorrow is an off day for you to get ready for everything. After that, we begin. Any questions?"

"No, sir."

Bruce nodded and left, Matt looking after him and sighing. He went to his bed and laid down, his head barely touching the pillow before he fell asleep.

He was awake around ten the next morning, and he showered and got into a pair of black pants and a black shirt. He then found directions from the computer to the Gotham Bar and Grill. Feeling the chill, Matt made sure he got his coat as well, and then he left the way Bruce had shown him how at eleven. He looked over all the vehicles in the garage before taking a motorcycle, since he had the license to drive one. He drove through the city, relying on memory and the maps he had looked at, and eventually found the restaurant.

The woman turned—an attractive black woman with pink hair. "Matt! You really are back!" She hugged him tightly.

"Can't.... breathe... Max..." Matt barely managed, and she released him.

"Ma'am, your booth is ready." The two walked, following the server, and sat at the private booth, far from the rest of the patrons.

"Thank you," both of them said politely as he gave them their menus and left. Maxine "Max" Gibson, Terry's best friend and Matt's only contact in Gotham that wasn't business-related. He had left her to watch over Terry while he was gone, and she had done an excellent job—though, truth be told, it was a job she had been doing even before Matt left. He had been close to her too—she was his babysitter for years, after all, they had talked a few times, especially about Terry and Batman.

So she had been the person Matt had turned to when he left. And she had understood—hadn't liked his decision, but had respected it and understood it. They had stayed in touch over the years, and now... he was back.

"You haven't seen Terry yet," Max said matter-of-factly. "He's with Dana, will be for a few days. The Justice League is covering up his absence."

"I don't know whether to be relieved or sad," Matt admitted, looking at the menu and deciding to order a soda, sandwich, and soup.

"Well, it won't be forever," Max replied. The waiter came and they both ordered their meal. "So why did you come back?"

"Mr. Wayne wants me to take over his company to make sure his legacy survives and can be financially supported." Matt gave a weak smile and looked at the table. "I just want to go back to Bludhaven, Max. I can't do this. I said I'd try, but I can't..."

"Just try your best," Max smiled at him. "At the very least, you'll see Terry again. Just be yourself, it'll be okay."

Matt shrugged and their food arrived. The two ate and, when finished, hugged and Max asked, "Will I see you soon?"

"Probably in the cave or something. I'm living in the manor now, so you can see me when I'm there." Matt smiled and left, Max watching him as he left, and smiled. Terry would be so happy to see him, she knew it.

Matt was going to ride back to the manor when he remembered that Dick had told him about a man named Tim Drake. This was his only day of freedom... He sighed and rode to an internet cafe, found some information about Tim Drake and dialed the man's number.

"Matt McGinnis, huh?" Tim sounded nice, calm and a bit amused. "Dick called me yesterday, said Bruce got his claws into you. Come pay me a visit, I'm off from work today." He gave Matt his address and the young man rode to his house, through the still-unfamiliar streets of Gotham, wondering what his meeting with Tim Drake would be like.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

He drove through the city, looking around as he did so. Tim Drake lived in a pretty nice area of the city, and Matt was relieved that he didn't have to worry about the bike's safety as he parked. A gray-haired man was sitting on the steps of the address Matt had been given--he glanced up and did a double take, staring at Matt, blinking a few times and even rubbing his eyes to be sure, "Matt McGinnis?"

"Yes, sir. Tim Drake, right?" Matt felt oddly at ease with the man, and he didn't know why. "Are you okay? You seemed surprised..."

Tim nodded, "I was expecting you, and Dick mentioned the resemblance was very strong--you look a lot like Bruce." He stood and stretched, "You're about the same age as my kids, you know. They're away at school now, both of them." He gave Matt a small smile, "Come on in."

"Thank you." Matt followed the man into the house. The living room seemed comfortable, with a sofa and two chairs, a viewscreen with a nice sound setup, and an old-fashioned fireplace. Matt paused to check out the technology, "Whoa. This stuff is _good_. Like something I'd do..." He began to murmur the interesting points and styles, as he observed the setup. Then he remembered that he was a guest and looked over at Tim, blushing, "Er..."

Tim grinned at him, "Like it, eh?"

"Oh yeah," Matt admitted. "Who set it up?"

"I did." At Matt's wide-eyed look, Tim laughed, "I'm an electronics and communications engineer--that plus my old hobby working with Bruce..." he looked a bit bitter there, but said nothing except, "Add all of that together, this setup was simple."

"Most folks wouldn't say that," Matt murmured, looking at it once more before looking at the fireplace. There were pictures on the mantle, "Your family?"

"Yes," Tim smiled affectionately at the pictures, remembering when his children had been younger. Matt had such a wistful look on his face... why? Tim thought and mentally berated himself--of course. It was the reason that Matt had probably gone along with Bruce's idea in the first place. The boy hadn't had a proper family in heaven knows how long... his family had been split, his brother constantly in trouble and then always working... and then the only _solid_ person in his family, his mother, had been murdered in front of him. Tim had always been envious of people with so-called _real _families as a child. His father had tried, but, well, a criminal wasn't exactly the greatest parent or family. The Bat Family had made up for that--it was why Bruce refusing to allow him to continue as Robin had broken him so much. Bruce had taken away the only real family Tim had ever had. But Dick and Barbara had stayed in his life anyway, and Tim would always be grateful for that--they didn't love _Robin_, they loved _Tim._

Terry McGinnis had his friends and fiancée. Who did Matt have? Tim could see why Dick was so adamant about trying to protect the younger man now; he felt the same way and the two had just met!

"Your wife and daughter are really pretty," Matt said quietly. "Your son looks smart too. Must run in the family, huh?" He smiled at Tim.

"Thanks," Tim smiled back at him. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No thank you. I just had lunch."

"Well, sit down." Tim indicated the sofa and wondered what to say. He decided to just speak, "So Bruce wants you to take over his company?" At Matt's nod, Tim said, "Why you and not Terry? I mean, Terry took over his other job, why bother you?"

"I'm..." Matt looked at the floor and looked at Tim, "He doesn't want Terry to be alone. Max can help with computers and advice, and Dana's good for morale, but..." He sighed and said, "He wants someone to be able to fund his legacy. I'm better at it than Terry."

"And you're all right with this?" Tim asked quietly, the anger evident in his voice even though he wasn't speaking loudly. "Do you think you're a burden? Do you think that you're a waste and destroy everything you're near?" Seeing the look of horror and shock on Matt's face, Tim knew he had hit the mark; Dick had been right. "Bruce's just manipulating you. You have to know that--you're not stupid. He's using your love and concern for your brother to make you do this."

"I know," Matt said quietly.

"If you know, then why do it?" Tim demanded. "That old man's ruined enough people, you don't need to be on the list."

"... What did he do to you and Commissioner Grayson, that you both hate him so much?" Matt asked quietly.

Tim looked at Matt and murmured, "You don't know?" He remained silent for a few seconds before saying, "We worked with Bruce... I was his Robin. Dick used to be and became Nightwing. And Babs--Barbara Gordon, Commissioner here, she was Batgirl." At the stare of astonishment on Matt's face, Tim knew that he hadn't known this. "Alfred, Lucius, Leslie, the Justice League--all of us were resources for Bruce. The League's a lot smaller now, and well, the others... we're not in the game anymore."

"Why did you leave?" Matt asked, still staring at Tim in awe. "I mean, I've seen the old footage--you were _amazing_. Every kid wants to be Robin--brave, bold, smart, and able to deal with _Batman_ and _heroes_ and villains..."

Tim stared--he hadn't known _that_. "What?"

"Oh come on, don't act like you don't know," Matt said, grinning as he remembered. "Batman and Robin, they were awesome. Batman was mysterious and dark, but Robin was... just more normal, but got things done. Led the Titans, defeated villains, dealt with the dark and brooding Batman... and because he _was_ a kid, everyone knew he probably had to deal with school and everything. Everyone wanted to be the new Robin for Batman, growing up, and I'm pretty sure that wish hasn't gone away. We knew that even kids could make a difference, because of you."

Robin had had fans? Tim had been so busy being angry at Bruce--had forgiven him a bit, but still didn't really get along with the man--and had heard about Batman for so long that he hadn't thought anyone would care about _his_ old persona. Obviously, that wasn't the case.

"And you're in electronics _and _communications, a husband, a _father_..." Matt stared at Tim in obvious admiration, "You can make things and deal with people, _and_ you were Robin? Mr. Drake, you're... you're awesome."

Tim laughed, and said, "Just call me Tim." He had never had anyone _admire_ him like this before, not to his knowledge, and it made him a bit flustered--he didn't think he was anything special. "Well, you're definitely more than me then."

"What? How do you figure _that?" _Matt asked, obviously thrown off by the comment--this was _Robin_ for goodness sake! He had dealt with Bruce Wayne in his _prime_--so had Dick Grayson! They probably got whapped with things worse than canes every day, and Matt had been whining?! These two older guys had put him to shame!

"Because we all had to approach Bruce," Tim said quietly. "He adopted Dick and me, but he didn't ask us to be Robin--we had to go to him. Barbara needed _his_ approval before she truly felt that she was Batgirl. Terry needed _him_. Even the Justice League would go to Bruce when they had trouble or needed something solved. But Bruce... he went to _you_. He saw something in you that he didn't see in me, or Dick, or Babs or Terry... he didn't see it in anyone in the League and they've got Superman!" Tim stared at Matt who looked at his feet. "Being his blood wouldn't have made a difference--he could have made a phone call or sent Terry."

Matt looked back up, shocked--he hadn't thought of that. Tim was right; Bruce _could_ have done that. Why hadn't he? "I'm nothing special, though," Matt said quietly. "I'm just... me."

"You're a smart kid," Tim said, snorting at the humility in the young man. "You've got a good head for business, you're--"

Matt interrupted, "You're overestimating me."

"You're underestimating yourself," Tim said quietly. He had started off not wanting Tim to take over Wayne Enterprises, wanting to prove to Bruce that he couldn't get whatever he wanted... but remembering that Bruce had gone to Matt had somehow changed that for Tim. He and Dick felt protective over this young man and they barely knew him; Bruce had gone to Bludhaven and practically begged for him to take over--_what was so special about Matthew McGinnis?_ Tim wanted the young man to stick around so that he could find out.

Matt looked down once more. So many layers to people who Bruce had affected... would he become like that? Showing one face to people, one face to another, and probably a lie to everyone? He would've done that, all for Terry... except that Tim Drake thought that _he_ was special? Bruce had thought it too? Dick Grayson had wanted Matt to be happy too... And Lucius had offered his company to _Matt_--not Bruce, not Terry, but _Matt._..

Was he really worth this time and effort? He thought he was just a waste, pathetic, a tool... but he didn't think _all_ of these people would lie to him. Maybe... just maybe... he could do this.

He had once had a group of friends, when he had lived in Gotham. Miles, Alyss, Jill, Neil... he remembered his old friends. Odd, he hadn't thought of them while in Bludhaven. Perhaps he could try to contact them now, through a social site or email or something...

"Matt?" Tim asked, making the younger man look up. "Some advice from an older man. Whatever Bruce wants you to do, you can put him to shame in it. You don't have to let him manipulate you by using Terry--if you're doing this, do it because you _want_ to, not because of misplaced loyalty."

Matt nodded, and then said, "Why do I have to wear so many masks?"

"... It's part of the fun," Tim admitted with a grin. At Matt's stare of incredulity, Tim elaborated, "Think of it as a game. How many people can pry enough, can trick me into showing my true self? Sneaking around is half the fun."

"And what's the other half?" Matt inquired, curious.

Tim laughed, "Getting away with it!"

Matt couldn't help but laugh--he should've expected that answer.

"But honestly, it shows who is willing to try and get to know you, who will look past any mask and care about _you_. Quite useful in determining who really gives a damn and who just smiles and pretends to care about you." Tim shrugged, "People do it all the time and don't even realize it--they'll show one face at work and relax around their friends and family? Same thing. We just take it to a different level."

"Well, putting it like that..." Matt murmured, musing over the explanation. "I didn't think of it that way--Bruce approaching me, I mean."

"Yeah. Must be nice, knowing that at any time, you can tell him to shove it and just leave. You don't need his approval, Matt--he needs yours." Tim smiled at him and Matt blushed, unsure about _that_ but grateful. This talk with Tim made him comfortable, made him glad that there was someone in Gotham besides Max that he could just relax around and talk to.

The phone rang and Tim glanced at the number and his eyes widened as he grinned, "It's my son."

"I'll see myself out. Thanks, Tim, for everything." The two shook hands.

"Call or come by if you need me," Tim said, picking up the phone and talking to his son.

Matt went outside and glanced at his watch. It was 3:30 in the afternoon. He didn't want to go and bother Bruce just yet... so what could he do? He leaned by his bike, pondering... and remembered an old Internet cafe that he and his friends used to stop by after school. It had had the _best_ old-fashioned soda, tea, coffee _awesome_ pastries and _homemade ice cream_. Everything had been delicious!

They'd go there, Matt had always ordered a chocolate-cherry soda, and would play games with his friends--computer simulations, board games, card games... the owner/tender had been used to them, always having a table...

Matt sighed. He probably wouldn't even know how to act around them anymore, the way he ran from people now. But he was pretty sure he had enough nerve to get a chocolate-cherry soda and see if it tasted as good as his memory claimed. He glanced at the GPS on his bike and entered in the name... ah, there it was. Matt shook his head, amused, and muttered, "The Pour House... some things really don't change." He geared up the bike and rode, following the instructions given by the GPS, finally reaching the cafe.

It _couldn't_ be. The guy had a few gray hairs, but it was the same guy. Mr. S, Harry Saxon, the "King of Coffee," they had dubbed him. Matt stared in disbelief--he was _still _there? Wow. He put the security on his bike and walked into the cafe--a few people were there. Some on computers, others talking at the tables, and a group was playing cards.

Mr. S stared at Matt and said, voice loud in surprise, "Matt?! It's been a long time kiddo!" The two shook hands and as Matt marveled at Mr. S remembering his _name_, Mr. S surprised him even more and said, "Your usual? Chocolate-cherry soda?"

"Y-Yeah," Matt stared at Mr. S in surprise, "You _remember?"_

"Hey, I remember my usuals, no matter how long it's been. Besides, the old crew still stops by a lot. Hard to forget you then." Mr. S grinned and began mixing the seltzer water, chocolate syrup and grenadine. It took maybe a minute at the most, and he put it in a bottle, not a cup. "You're not sitting, figured you're going to run out." Matt smiled thankfully and went to pay. "Nah, kiddo, no charge. Just come back and visit!"

"Thanks Mr. S. I will." Matt took the bottle of soda, sipping at it--oh _yes_, it was _better_ than he had remembered. "I will _definitely_ be back."

"Later kiddo! Oh!" Mr. S looked at him, "Is it cool if I tell the others you stopped by?"

"... Yeah," Matt said, thinking. "I'll give you my email, actually. Then we can talk again, if they want."

"Perfect!" Mr. S gave Matt a pen and paper, and Matt scribbled down his email, said goodbye and left.

Matt rode, sipping and enjoying his soda, back to the manor. He had felt so... _comfortable_ with Max, Tim and Mr. S, but he had felt really uncomfortable at the party last night. Why was he fine with some people, one of them a complete stranger, and yet... Matt sighed, putting the bike away and going to his rooms. He didn't know what was wrong with him. All he could hope was that Bruce would be able to figure it out and fix it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Matt was sitting in his room, looking through the multiple files on his computer when a gentle tap sounded on his window. He looked up, confused, and he blinked, surprised. _Any_ person would recognize the person at his window: Superman.

"What are you doing here, Clark?" Bruce's voice rang out from Matt's doorway, as Superman, or Clark Kent depending on who was looking at him and if he was in costume, opened the window and let himself in.

"I thought I'd introduce myself," Superman said, giving Matt a smile. "I heard you found a replacement for yourself."

"I found my replacement a long time ago," Bruce said softly, giving the man from Krypton a glare. "You've worked alongside him a few times and--"

"A replacement for Bruce Wayne," Superman said easily, hovering. Matt swallowed hard, wondering what to think or do in this situation. This was _Superman_. He was just as much of a living legend as Batman. "Who is much more pleasant to be around, I must admit, than Batman usually was."

Bruce narrowed his eyes, "It was an act. Get used to it. Don't keep him up late." He walked out, leaving Matt and Superman to share looks.

"Dick asked me to check up on you," Superman explained, sitting down. "He was glad you went to see Tim, but he thought Bruce might need to see the fact that you have your own personality, your own group, your own approach to things." The Man of Steel looked around the room; it had advanced technology components and machines everywhere, a few clothes and other belongings, but it was very simple otherwise--practically a studio apartment in the huge manor. "They're both worried."

"I..." Matt looked down and back at Superman, "I'm glad, but... I said it was okay. I thought... I'd try. It's the least I can do."

Superman just nodded and sat in one of the chairs in the room, observing the young man that was tapping away at one of the many hand-held computers' touch-screens. "What are you doing?"

"Just checking stocks and stuff," Matt said quietly. "News of me replacing Bruce spreads fast." He indicated the small screen and Superman gave a sympathetic nod. He understood how the boy felt, but this was worse--it wasn't just a mask he wore. This was going to be his life now...

"Wait, they struck again?" Superman asked, indicating a news story on Matt's screen. Wondering what Superman was talking about, Matt hit the article.

_**Who are the Carroll Gang?**_  
_By Dena Parrish  
Gotham Times Staff Writer_

_Yet again, our police force has proven ineffective against the new criminal group that many have taken to calling the Carroll Gang. They have struck Mercer Vista Bank today, the latest in their multiple heists..._

"The Carroll Gang?" Matt asked quietly, raising an eyebrow and looking at Superman.

"They got their name from what they call each other. Cheshire, Bandersnatch, Jabberwock, Alice, Gryphon, Hatter, Hare... I'm sure there are many." He must have seen Matt about to ask questions, because Superman continued, "They're not normal humans. Cheshire, for example, like his namesake can teleport. That alone wouldn't be a problem except for the others--the Hatter and Hare are usually hopping around, and though they're insane, it's as if we can't touch them. Alice is usually with Cheshire, and the others are usually... more than a match for us. The Bandersnatch has no consistent shape or form, the Jabberwock is huge, massive, and before we can strike it down, the Gryphon or one of the others comes.... or Cheshire removes them."

"They've been causing trouble, then?"

Superman just nodded and sighed, "They've been targeting organizations and banks. Keep an eye on them."

"I will."

"I'll be around to check on you periodically. They need me back in Metropolis." Soon after that, Superman was gone. Matt stared at his window for a few moments before shutting it and looking back at his hand-held computer.

He hoped that Superman's warning was just that: a warning, just an overly cautious thought... but the younger man didn't think so, not truthfully. Something told him that this gang would, sooner or later, come after Wayne Enterprises.

Matt pushed the small computer away and pulled his covers up to his chin. He was nervous, worried and now paranoid. None of those emotions would help him. The young man breathed deeply in and out, soon managing to fall asleep for a few hours until his door slammed open right before sunrise.

"MATT!" A voice shouted.

He knew that voice. He'd know it anywhere.

His brother was back.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Matt yelped as he was simultaneously tackled, hugged, and punched as his brother moved so fast across the room, Matt wondered if he was wearing the boots from the Batman suit. And soon, Matt could make out the features on his brother--they really _did_ look alike, but Terry was much more built and broad, whereas Matt was about two or three inches shorter and more slender.

"You're home, you're really home," Terry said, hugging Matt so tightly that the younger man wondered if his brother had taken some genetic materials from a boa constrictor. "Do you know how _worried_ I was?! Why did you _do_ that?!" He grabbed Matt by the shoulders and those dark eyes stared at him.

"I couldn't stay after what happened--"

"Don't give me that," Terry said, shaking his head and letting his brother go. "I know how it feels, losing people. I saw Dad afterwards and I was on the scene with Mom too, remember? I saw the same things, so don't you tell me that you couldn't stand to be here in Gotham!" Terry shouted.

Matt swallowed hard and took a quivering breath, trying to keep himself calm, "Terry, first Stalker and then Mom--they knew we were your weakness. And I wasn't going to stay here and let them use me to hurt you."

"And so you just _left_?! You didn't say a word! I looked for years and nothing..."

Terry's words had turned into a buzz, but Matt didn't need to hear what he was saying. He knew what it was--judgment. He was stupid, worthless, a child that needed watching... Instinct took over and Matt shoved at the threat, hard, causing Terry to flail as he fell back a bit, losing his balance for a few seconds.

That was all the time Matt needed. He ran as fast and hard as he could out of the manor, not hearing the concerned shouts of "MATT, WAIT!" from Terry, and dodging whatever it was that Bruce tried throwing to stop him. He didn't stop and grab the bike--even in his panic, Matt knew to not grab something that could allow him to be tracked.

Home was gone. This wasn't home. Terry didn't miss him, he was just a burden that Terry had to make sure was safe. Matt ran through the trees, leaving no sign that he was there, as silent and fast as a deer. But he could see the neon lights of Gotham, could hear the distant sounds of cars and screens and people...

Red and loud and so noisy and the stench...

For a moment, mentally, he was back in the apartment, back screaming when his mother was killed, slapped away when the gang laughed and stabbed him...

So much pain and blood and screams...

And then it was gone, all gone, because Matt was too focused on running, on jumping and escaping, and he cared about nothing else until someone grabbed him by the shoulder. Matt turned, expecting Terry or Bruce, and his hand rose, only to stop. It was Tim Drake. Matt looked around frantically, but the streets were as empty as Gotham got. Nobody to judge, except for Tim. Matt stared at the older man for a few seconds. He saw concern, but no judgment, but could the former Robin just be hiding it?

Tim could see the conflicting emotions on Matt's face, and he remembered what Dick had said about the boy's irrational social fears. He decided to not comment or ask questions about Matt's status, instead saying, "So you enjoy late night walks--well, runs, in your case--too, hm? That's good, I'd love to have company if you don't mind slowing down." At the slow blinks from Matt, and the signs of calm began to show, Tim continued, "It would be nice to have company that I know isn't thinking of the best way to get my wallet out of my pocket."

Matt chuckled despite himself and shook his head, "I was running... I just... I couldn't..." he looked away and back to Tim, "I couldn't stay in the manor, I guess."

The engineer had figured that--the young man was still in his pajamas and barefoot, but he didn't comment. Tim knew that nobody else would care either--this was Gotham, after all. "Want to talk about it?"

"I just thought Terry was judging me," Matt said, trying to shrug with an ease he didn't feel. The two began to walk, silent. Matt felt embarrassed--he had run away from his _brother_, the one person he had come to Gotham for. And he was out here _barefooted. _He was pathetic! No wonder Terry thought he needed to watch Matt, no wonder he felt responsible! The young man sighed, but was relieved when Tim didn't press him for any information or ask any questions.

And then an odd sound echoed around them, almost like a growl, which made the two look...

A creature stood a few feet away, coming out of the shadows into the neon lights where they could see. It was massive, with a huge jaw that was full of canine teeth, sharp claws easily as long as Matt's arm, with a long neck, scaly skin and eyes that seemed to burn like flame. On its massive, scaly chest was etched a heart.

"What on Earth..." Matt whispered, looking at Tim, whose eyes had widened.

"A member of the Carroll Gang, out here?" He said, raising an eyebrow.

"Actually," a voice said easily from behind them, "a few members."

The two whirled, looking around--they were surrounded on all sides. Nowhere for them to run.

The person who had spoken was tall, wearing a purple pin-striped suit with a bowler hat to match, and had a _huge_ grin that seemed like a crescent moon. Matt somehow _knew_ who this member of the Carroll Gang was. "You're the Cheshire Cat." It was said softly.

The man grinned and spoke, "_Very_ good. You know, you've led us on quite the merry chase. We were looking for you for _years_Matthew McGinnis. It was very naughty, you just ran without a word. Not very nice at all."

"... Do I know you?" Matt asked, looking around, confused. Because he _didn't_ know these _things_.

"Oh your words cut more than the Jabberwock's claws," Cheshire answered, the mock-joy from a few seconds ago fading into a serious tone, the smile gone. "Don't they, Gryphon?"

"Yes, but we can worry about that later," another person--Gryphon--answered. "We have him now, let's go."

"Too right." Cheshire turned and looked at Tim, "You can go, good sir, we have no business with you, just with Matthew."

"I don't think so," Tim growled softly, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You won't get another warning." Cheshire snapped his fingers and, as the Carroll Gang began to move, Tim sprang into action, showing that he hadn't forgotten his old training. As he dodged and fought, he shouted, "Matt, run!"

"I can't just lea--!"

"Go!" Tim shouted, pushing the younger man, who stumbled and then did as Tim had said.

The Carroll Gang immediately pursued, two of them staying behind to deal with Tim. They were fast, but so was Matt. He ran as fast as he could, as hard as he could, jumping over any obstacles in his way.

Then Cheshire appeared in front of him, Gryphon above him, the Jabberwock behind, and others. He was caught... "Why me?! Who are you people?!" Matt demanded furiously, dodging when Gryphon went into a dive and rolling to the side when Jabberwock tried to capture him. He kicked ferciously at the others, keeping an eye on Cheshire to make sure the man didn't teleport.

"If you would stop fighting and come with us, all would be explained."

"Yeah, sure, go with criminals that are trying to kidnap me and fight me," Matt said, slightly out of breath, but he was still moving, mainly to make sure he didn't get hit.

Cheshire shook his head and adjusted his hat, then said, "Not to insult you, but there are more of us than you--even if we're taking it easy because we don't want to hurt you, fighting is a foolish move against these odds, I must say.."

Before Matt answered, another voice said, "Then it's a good thing we're here to even the odds a bit, isn't it?" Another person slammed into Jabberwock while the speaker went for Gryphon. Matt turned to look at the speaker and couldn't help the grin that found its way onto his face.

His brother was there, in costume, with the Justice League. Superman was punching the Jabberwock repeatedly, and Matt knew that it wouldn't be helping the others any time soon.

"Get out of here!" Terry said to Matt as he threw something at Cheshire, making the man fall back, unconscious, before he could vanish. Matt nodded and ran, hearing the sounds of fighting behind him.

Soon, a car pulled up next to him and the window lowered, revealing Bruce. "Get in."

He didn't hesitate, and didn't speak as Bruce drove quickly, until he noticed they weren't going back to the manor.

No, they were going to Wayne Industries. Matt repressed a groan--how could Bruce still expect him to do anything? And he wasn't dressed for a day in the office!

"There's a suit in the back. Get changed inside. We've got work to do."

"... Yes sir," Matt said, wondering yet again if Bruce was psychic. They reached the office building and Matt grabbed the suit and followed Bruce until he reached a bathroom that had a shower stall. He quickly showered and dressed, too tired and confused to feel nervous about this day.

He had been up most of the night, and then, added to that, the questions that Matt had. Why were the Carroll Gang after _him_. Cheshire had said they had been looking for him for years, but it hadn't been that gang that had killed his mother. He would remember them. So who were they? Why were they chasing him? Why were they so offended when he had asked them if he knew them? Why didn't they want to hurt him?

He looked at his reflection once more and left the bathroom, following Bruce to a conference room. Everyone there was older than him, and all of them looked at him strangely. Matt had the sinking feeling in his stomach that the day was going to get a lot worse before it got better, and he could hear a man whisper to a woman next to him, "_That's_ the man he chose? Why does he keep getting babies!"

The woman gave him a reproachful look and said, "If Bruce picked him, that's good enough for me."

"You said the same thing about Wyatt," the man muttered, his eyes traveling to look at another person across the room--Matt's eyes followed and he saw a man that looked about Terry's age sitting there, looking at his phone, where he could see messages appearing.

Matt slowly smiled; he could deal with this. He had proven people who thought his age was a barrier wrong before. Everyone politely looked at Bruce.

"Matt, this is the Board Committee," Bruce explained as they sat. "They're the Directors of all the Departments, which are quite a few, as I'm sure you can imagine."

The meeting was rather boring and Matt forgot most names except for three: William Wyatt, the guy that was Terry's age; Gale Cobblepot, who was the woman that had defended Matt; and the man's name was Brandon Trent. Trent was a bitter old guy who was the head of Environmental Services, Cobblepot was in charge of Finances, and Wyatt was in charge of Technological Security.

Another meeting and then it was time for a late lunch. Bruce hustled him into the office, and Matt could see Terry waking up when the door opened. "Hey," Matt said jumping when Terry hugged him tightly.

"You're okay?" Terry asked, looking Matt up and down.

"Yeah."

"There's no question that they're after you," Bruce said easily, indicating Matt as he hobbled to his desk. "And I doubt you know anything about them since they're a relatively new gang, started up after you left Gotham."

"So they might be after Terry," Matt said quietly.

"I doubt it," Terry countered, making the other two look at him. "There are cameras everywhere in the city, bro, and I went through the audio and visual footage. They've been hunting for you too, just like I was. Whoever this gang is, they knew Matt before he left. But you weren't in a gang--you were the good one." This was said with a teasing smile; everyone remembered Terry's past, and both Terry and Mary, their mother, had been relieved Matt hadn't followed in his footsteps.

Matt had been a normal teenager in school--he had been in the top five of his class, had been in the computer and electronics club, and always had a new tease or insult for Terry. They were brothers, it was part of the job. But he had had a group of friends, had been in activities and was a good student.

All of that had changed the week their mother had been murdered. Matt had just changed overnight, being distant and frightened and then he had been gone...

Terry pushed away the thoughts--his brother was back now and no gang would get in his way.

"Maybe they suspected Bruce would come for me," Matt said, thinking. "He had Terry, and they said years, but not how many, so they could've been looking after I did some work for other companies."

"That still doesn't answer the why," Bruce muttered.

Matt sighed, obvious at a loss for words, and Terry said, "It doesn't matter. We'll just keep a lookout for you. I'm sure they'll come after you again."

"Thanks Terry, you know how to make someone feel special." Matt rolled his eyes and the three looked up as someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," Bruce said, and soon, the three were digging into their lunch, silent, but their minds still racing with questions.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The day passed quickly enough after lunch with more meetings and other normal business things. Terry had left to see Dana before he went to his "real" job. The thought of that always made Matt a little amused; as if being a legendary hero in Gotham was a typical job. Though, giving them credit, the law enforcement did handle some of the easier things.

Matt and Bruce left the building together, though, in the evening. Matt blinked, a bit surprised--his bike was there. But Bruce had brought him to work... he looked at the older man, who shrugged, "Terry brought it with him when he came in. Said that you might want to go out or something."

"... Is it okay if I do?" Matt asked, thinking about the gang.

Bruce shrugged, "This is Gotham. You take risks just living here. You've been alright so far. See you at the manor." With that, the older man went to a car. Matt watched him for a bit before getting on the bike and deciding to go to the Pour House. He figured after the hectic day he had had, the least that he deserved was a chocolate-cherry soda.

He drove through the city streets, soon reaching his destination. He put the security on his bike and walked in. Like the last time he had come by, some people were on the computers, others were talking at the tables, and a group was playing a holographic monster summoning card game.

He walked to the counter, where Mr. S gave him a grin, "Hey Matt. Hard day?"

"Hey Mr. S." Matt said tiredly, giving him an weak grin, "You have no idea."

The man laughed, "Your usual?"

"Yeah."

The man began to mix before he glanced at a table that was in the corner, away from people. "I think you might want this to be for here." At the odd look, Matt followed the man's glance... and just stared for a few seconds.

Neil was sitting there with a steaming mug, just looking at him. He gave Matt a two-fingered salute and indicated the chair in front of him.

Neil Wagner had been Matt's best friend for most of his life, before high school and during it when he had been part of the group of friends they had shared. They had been in the top five of the school, had always been at the other's house, and had hero-worshipped Batman.

"I think I will," Matt said quietly, paying for the soda and walking to his old friend. It was odd. Neil didn't look like him aside from the fact that he was about the same height and build--he was dark as night, his hair shaved to the minimal amount, and his eyes were a dark brown, not black like Matt's. But perhaps it was the look in those eyes that reminded Matt of himself, perhaps it was because Neil was away from the people in the cafe... Matt didn't know, and truthfully, he didn't really care either.

Neil held out his fist and Matt smiled and did the same, tapping his old friend's fist with his own--an old greeting. So much time had passed, so many things had happened, and yet it seemed like this was the same. "You stayed."

"Yeah. And you didn't." The two slowly grinned and just laughed. Stating the obvious had never sat well with either of them. Neil continued, "Things got pretty bad after you left. Aimee and Lew... something happened when they were going home one day."

"I read something about it, a truck hitting them, but I thought they were just comatose," Matt said, staring at Neil in horror. There had been five people in their group of friends at Hamilton Hill high school, and already that number was down to three.

"Their families finally let them go." Neil sighed and shook his head, "Now Kat on the other hand..."

"She's still in bad condition," Matt said softly. He knew that much was true. "Coma."

"Yeah, at Gotham Hospital. I've been paying for the treatment."

Matt had read about the explosion--a gang had committed the act. He had thought it was the Jokerz at the time, but now... "And you?"

"I'm even more of an anti-social freak," Neil said, chuckling. "Vanished off the radar. What point was there anymore except to come here for the best drinks ever?"

Matt nodded in understanding, "I'm not leaving again."

"I figured as much. Taking over the company and all. You okay?"

"I'd rather be at my apartment in Bludhaven," Matt admitted, causing Neil to chuckle. The two sipped their drinks in comfortable silence, Matt wondering how it was possible to still be comfortable with someone after so long apart. Finally he asked, "Do you know anything about the Carroll Gang?"

Neil winced, "I was waiting for that question. I don't know why they're after me."

"After you?" Matt blinked and shook his head, "No... I'm asking because they're after me."

"What?" Neil looked at Matt, both of them thinking as fast as they could. "Why would a gang be after both of us?"

"A gang messed Kat up too," Matt said softly, trying to connect the dots.

"You think they did this to us? But why? We weren't in any gangs or anything! We were boring!" Neil shook his head, "Why?"

"Maybe it's because you're both survivors?"

Both Matt and Neil jumped as Mr. S shook his head, "Sorry to startle both of you. I thought you could use a refill."

Matt looked at his glass--sure enough, it was empty. The same with Neil's mug. "What do you mean?" Matt asked, looking at Mr. S, slightly suspicious.

"Neither of you two had it easy," Mr. S said it quietly, looking at Matt with pity in his eyes. Matt knew he was referring to his mother's murder. Neil just looked at the table. "They're not that different from you."

"... You know who they are?" Neil asked, looking at him in surprise.

"No. But to live like that requires a special kind of loss, of desire. To hunt two people down, to live insanely and rob... it takes something normal folks don't have. And I for one am glad I don't and that you two managed to deal with life in a way that those beings would never have the courage to attempt." With that, he took the empty glasses away.

Matt sighed, "They must have robbed him a few times."

"Judging from the anger in his tone and eyes, they definitely did something," Neil agreed, sipping from his new cup of coffee. "Honestly, this place makes the best drinks. Perhaps they were blessed by the gods or something."

"Or are magic?" Matt teased, glancing at his phone. A few messages appeared back to back. One was from Terry, one from Max, and the last was from Lucius. He read and replied to all three. "Family, friend, and work," he explained to Neil.

"Have to love technology. No escape, even in a cafe."

"I guess--" Matt began, both turning as a voice interrupted, singing.

"'Twas brilig, and the slithy toves  
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:  
All mimsy were the borogroves,

And the mome raths outgrabe!"

"What on Earth...?"

"You people again!?" Mr. S snapped, fury obvious on his face. Matt's eyes widened--at the door of the cafe stood Cheshire, Gryphon, and two others that Matt remembered seeing before. All of them were members of the Carroll Gang.

"So this is your hideaway. We should have known it'd be a place that's sealed and net protected. Typical of Saxon." Cheshire looked at Mr. S, "Although it is lovely that your daughter didn't follow suit, wanted more than to serve drinks and waste her life."

Mr. S glared, furious, "She's wasting her life by associating with you lowlives."

"Well, Alice was the logical one in Wonderland," Cheshire said softly, giving Mr. S a wide grin. "If you don't summon the police and allow us to collect Matthew and Neil, perhaps her logic will allow us to persuade her to return."

Mr. S turned to them, pain obvious in his eyes for a second--a brief second. Matt shut his eyes, wondering if he'd be able to run out the back. He wouldn't make Mr. S choose-- "Rot in hell," He snapped at Cheshire. Matt repressed a grin, hearing the police sirens.

Gryphon tsked, "This really makes things so much more complicated than they should. Cheshire?"

"With pleasure."

"Move," Neil and Matt said to each other simultaneously, both jumping over the table and out the back door, both keeping pace with the other just as they had all those times when they first learned parkour.

They didn't talk, and so they could hear Cheshire easily, even over the sirens, "You'll come around eventually! You were the ones who said that the struggle for financial freedom wasn't fair! YOU ARE OUR KINGS!"

What? Matt and Neil shared looks as the police cars passed them. "C'mon," Matt said as they both turned and saw the Carroll Gang vanish. "My bike's that way."

Neil grinned, "So's mine."

"Mine is better."

"You wish."

Light banter to try and ignore what Cheshire had screamed at them. Light jokes and reminiscing to ignore the fact that the girl who had been two years younger than them was apparently a member of the Carroll Gang.

The two had figured out what the gang had done to Mr. S, and they really wished they hadn't been so curious.

Finally, though, they stood at their bikes, security off, and Neil said softly, "It was a debate in the school auditorium. The state championship."

"The struggle for financial freedom isn't fair," Matt said softly.

"But of course, you would disagree because you work for millionaires," Neil finished, remembering how they had played off the other and had won the championship. "Matt... are we responsible for what they're doing? Are we really the reason that they're like this?"

"No. We're not. An idea is just that, an argument to win a championship is just that. What they're doing, neither of us want."

"He called us their kings."

"Yeah," Matt said softly. "He did."

"What else did we say that would make people do this, make them hunt us so desperately?" Neil asked, obviously trying to remember.

"... I don't know," Matt said, sighing. "I really don't." He got on the bike and looked at Neil, "You know how to reach me."

"Yeah. It goes both ways. Later."

"Later." Matt drove to the manor, walking into the cave.

"Your brother's fine," Bruce said, looking at Matt and indicating the screen. Max was there too, and she grinned broadly at him.

"Is there any way to find records of things from when I was in school?" Matt asked, knowing that there really wasn't a way, but hoping he might be wrong.

"Random question," Max said, thinking.

"Depends on what you're looking for," Bruce said, looking at Matt.

"Recordings of mock trial sessions or debates," Matt said softly. At the looks of interest on both faces, Matt explained, "Cheshire quoted something that I said once in a debate. I think... I might have known them. And maybe if I find things I said before, it might help."

"Hamilton High has had cameras for security reasons for decades," Bruce said. "Give me a few hours."

"Stalking you because of things you said in high school?" Max asked.

"No," Bruce said, shaking his head. "Matt and his friends are the ideological backbone of this gang. To the Carroll Gang, their words may have been something similar to a manifesto. That's why they're after them. Like I said, a few hours."

Matt nodded and left the cave, just wanting to sleep and hopefully have a few hours of rest.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Matt got more than the few hours he had thought he would get originally, waking up when the first rays of sun came through his window. He sat up and looked around, a bit surprised when he saw he had a bit over an hour before he had to wake up.

The sunrise... the red and orange...

Oh no, not again. He felt sick, remembering the murder of his mother, and tried to force the memories out of his thoughts, before he stopped.

Maybe this was what had started everything. Perhaps his running away, his denials and hiding, had led to all of this: the Carroll Gang, his fear of people, everything...

Matt shut his eyes, the memories still painful. He wanted to go back to the oblivion of trying to forget, of moving on and never looking back, but he forced himself to hold on, to accept what his own mind had wanted him to understand. He could remember everything now, and he wished that he didn't.

_They had just finished up their mock trial meeting for the day. "See you guys later," Matt said, waving to his friends._

"_Later!" They called back, heading out._

_Matt walked into their apartment, grinning at the scent of dinner. It smelled delicious, "Hey Mom. Dinner smells great." He glanced at the table and saw it set for two. So his brother wouldn't be home for dinner tonight. Not surprising, truth be told, and so he didn't comment._

"_Your brother needed to go to work early," his mother said quietly._

_He forced a smile onto his face, "I guess that means I have you to myself again." They sat and she served them both._

"_How was school? You didn't call me at all today."_

"_I forgot to call, and school was okay like always. A bunch of people just joined Mock Trial. But they're a little weird." She was rather overprotective of him, always insisting he checked in and the like. Not that he could blame her, after what had happened with Stalker a few years ago._

"_Matt, don't say that about people. They're just different."_

"_I know, but... I don't know, it's like they worship us, Mom. They really have us on a pedastal. It just doesn't seem healthy—there's this one girl, Candice, she's just freaky. And I'm not even getting into that Kevin guy. Neil swears that he's been hitting on him."_

"_I'm sure they'll make an excellent addition to your team. You guys have won championships and everything, after all. And Neil can have an overactive imagination—remember that time he swore your brother was Batman?"_

"_... Overactive imagination... yeah, I guess you're right..." If only she knew... Matt kept himself from saying anything._

_It had been a normal night, and the days continued that way until one Friday night, where Matt was home with his mother and there had been a knock on the door._

_Matt opened the door, revealing a few people from the Mock Trial team. "Hey guys."_

"_Hi Matt," Kevin said, his violet eyes lighting up with joy. "Want to come out? We're hitting the Dark Side Club."_

_Matt perked up—he had heard about the Dark Side Club. Before he could answer, his mother spoke, "I don't think so! Both of you out on a Friday night—the Jokerz and other gangs are really bad on Fridays!"_

_Oh great. He had forgotten—his mother was overprotective. "Mom, I'll be fine. I'll check in and everything."_

_Kevin stared at her as her voice pitched, "Are you sure?"_

"_I'll be fine Mom." Matt smiled at her assuringly and left with the others._

"_Bit protective?" Candice muttered._

"_She has her reasons," Matt said, giving them a smile. "Let's go."_

"_Sure. But doesn't it get annoying?" Kevin asked._

"_Of course. There are times where I wish she'd just go away, but it's life." The group left, having a great time at the club._

_More and more as the days went by, Matt was with the other people in his club, his mother expressing her distaste as the time passed. Finally, one night as they argued at the door, Kevin interrupted, "Have you ever thought, madam, that nobody here cares about your opinions? You just hold us back by holding back one of the best people in the school and our club."_

"_How dare you!" Mary managed, staring at him._

_Matt groaned, "Kevin, shut up. Mom—"_

"_You are not going anywhere!"_

"_Mom, seriously? You've got to be kidding me."_

"_I am not kidding!"_

"_Enough of this," Candace muttered. "She messes things up for us every time."_

"_What are you doing?" Neil asked worried, causing Matt to look at his oldest friend._

"_We're the Mock Trial, the Court, we can figure ways around anything. And if she thinks she's above the law, then she's got another thing coming."_

"_Nobody's above the law, Candace," Matt said, trying to understand what they were talking about. "We're all subject to punishment."_

"_Yes, and this is false imprisonment, meaning wrongful physical confinement of an individual. This is not restricted to physical confinement but includes any unjustified limitation of another's freedom of movement. If an individual is intimidated into responding to an order, the courts have interpreted this as false imprisonment. You're being intimidated, Matt, and we all know the law system in Gotham is corrupt."_

"_What are you—" Matt began, realizing something had slipped past his control without his knowledge. His mother looked worried._

"_What are you—" Mary began._

"_Justice is being served, madam," Kevin said it quietly._

_Candace nodded, "In the words of the book I had to read for class: 'Off with her head!'"_

"_WHAT?!" Matt screamed, but people held him back. "WHAT THE—NO! SOMEONE HELP—!"_

_The other members of the mock trial did as she said, Matt screaming as loud as he could, sobbing."You're free now. She can't force you to do anything," Kevin said as the others released him. Matt cradled his mother's body and stared at his former team mates, sickened. _

"_We're all free," Candace said, making Matt look at her, confused and sickened. "We will no longer be shackled by these fools, by this corrupt system and those that would enforce it."_

"_You're insane," Matt whispered, looking at all of them, a bit relieved—his oldest friends had long left. "All of you."_

"_We're all a little mad here," Kevin agreed, "but since we're all just doing what you said, doesn't that make you the most insane of us all? You're just like the Red King, if that's your idea—you speak and give commands, but make us do all the work, like this is just a dream for you?"_

"_GET OUT!" Matt screamed, clutching his mother's body. "Just go. I want nothing to do with any of you. Where's Terry..." He whispered it, sobbing._

_The others shared looks, "There is another one here, isn't there."_

"_What should we do?" _

"_Come back when he's back to normal."_

_The group seemed to fade into the night, vanishing. And then, finally, people seemed to understand that Matt had been in trouble. THEN people had called the cops and so many things happened..._

_But Matt after that, making sure that he would never hurt anybody again. He had to stay away from people, because if he hadn't accepted those insane people, his mother would be alive._

_If not for him, his mother would be alive._

The buzzing of the alarm made Matt look at it, his dark eyes dull and red, and he wiped his tears with the back of his hand, unaware that he had even been crying. He looked outside.

His self-imposed exile hadn't brought back his mother. It had distanced him from his only family. It had allowed those maniacs to run wild.

He had started this mess. Inadvertantly, yes, but nonetheless, he had. And now, countless others suffered. Redemption wasn't something to be given—it had to be earned. He knew that. And he had just run, not wanting to remember, not wanting to realize what he had done.

Matt stood up and got ready for the day. His mother had wanted the best for him and he had just run away, had hidden.

Had his fear gone? He didn't know, but when he entered Wayne Enterprises, he began working before Bruce arrived, taking to the secretary and having a phone interview with Daisy Ramsey, who he had giggling by the end of it. He called Lucius, telling him that he intended to stay on as CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and if the deal they had made before was genuine. When he confirmed that it was, Matt asked him for a favor to prove it, and Lucius quickly agreed, told Matt he would make the press arrangements and the like before the two hung up.

Then Matt called Dick and Tim, to check in with both of them. The last person he called was Neil.

"I know why they're after us." It was said without preamble.

"Why?"

"Come here for lunch at noon. It'll be easier to just say it in person."

"All right."

"You're active very early today," Bruce said, entering the office just as Matt hung up the phone. "I looked up some of the videos and files, but it'll take some more time—"

"There's no need," Matt said easily, looking at Bruce, who looked at the young man, wondering what brought this abrupt change. He could _see_ it.

"Matt?" Bruce inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"I know why they want me. If I hadn't been so busy running, I'd have seen it earlier. They even _told_ us yesterday why, and I just didn't want to see." At the look on Bruce's face, Matt said, "We're their kings."

"Now you believe it? Why?" Bruce looked at Matt, unsure about how to approach this new side to him.

The younger man shook his head and said quietly, "I'll tell you when my friend comes for lunch. For now, let's focus on these numbers."

Bruce listened to the younger man, Terry joining them about midway through the morning and, to Bruce's surprise, both Tim and Dick did as well. They greeted Matt, spoke with Terry and glared a bit at Bruce, until Barbara Gordon entered the room.

When Matt gave her an odd look, she elaborated, "Dick called me."

"Ah. I hoped you called the others too," Matt said, a small grin of relief obvious when Dick nodded.

The last person to arrive, right after Matt called for lunch, was Neil. Their food arrived, the woman giving something to Matt, saying that Lucius had 'sent it as requested.' Matt thanked her and turned to Neil.

"An entourage?" Neil inquired, looking around as the woman left and the others doled out the food. "I'm impressed, but why?"

"You were there that night, Neil." Matt met his friend's eyes, and Neil sat heavily, saying nothing. He knew what Matt was talking about.

"Stop it." The words were whispered.

"What happened when you got home that night, Neil?" Matt asked it softly, knowing he was right. "Hating people and wanting them out of your life isn't the same as wanting them dead, is it? Seeing the person who practically took you in as a third son killed and then going home—"

"_STOP IT!" _Neil screamed, angrily lashing out at Matt, the others grabbing him. "_Shut up!"_

"But I can't, you know I can't," Matt said softly. "Because it's got to be said. We played off each other, but we were rivals too. And everyone knew it, we never kept it a secret, did we? I didn't even have to work, and everyone would obey. You, though... ah, lunch has arrived."

Everyone in the room stared at Matt in surprise, while Neil laughed bitterly, "Still the same in some ways, Matt. Don't ever change."

"The king that couldn't keep up, but still ruled," Matt said softly, giving Neil a sad look, because he knew that his friend knew now. "That was what they always called you, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Neil said softly. "And the one who could nap and control things, that was you."

And softly, Bruce said, "The White King and the Red King. That's who you are to them."

"We're the last parts," Matt said quietly.

"They were reading Alice in Wonderland and Alice Through the Looking-Glass in class, for classic literature, and I helped them analyze it," Neil said, remembering and speaking now. "So many of them were in the club, they figured it'd just be easier to pick the same book and work on it as a group. The teacher agreed. And they joked around, calling us the characters and picking names."

"And soon, we could do no wrong. Soon, we were really the kings, and for us to be controlled meant the game was ruined," Matt said softly.

"The Carroll Gang," Barbara realized,making everyone nod.

"They killed mom because of that?" Terry asked, the anger obvious on his face.

"They felt that she was keeping me wrongfully imprisoned," Matt said quietly. "That they had to serve justice, because our law enforcement couldn't. Their first murders were actions to make sure they were free." Matt tilted his head, "Weren't they, Cheshire?"

Everyone turned, seeing the tall man in his usual attire. He wasn't smiling as he said, "It wasn't murder, and you know it, sir. Our actions have reasonable cause."

"They didn't," Neil growled, staring at him. "Kevin, you know they—"

"I am _Cheshire,"_ the man corrected softly. "And I am heartily sorry, but it is time we end this game." He looked around the room and said, "None of them are important."

The other members of the Carroll Gang were in the huge office, and everyone stood, ready to fight.

"Yes," Matt agreed easily, still sitting. "You're right. It is time that we finished this game." With that, he took the small device he had asked Lucius for out of his pocket and activated it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Terry looked around the office, noticing that Bruce was doing the same thing. Matt stretched and Terry could see the exhaustion on his features.

Everyone else looked like human statues.

"What did you do?" Bruce asked, looking around.

"Biological force field," Matt said, giving them a weak smile. "Nobody can move unless we have the same genetic markers. Has to be an area that was already encoded, which is why I had to wait until everyone was in the office."

"Having your family around can be useful," Terry said, amused. "Can we deactivate it for some of them?"

"That's a bit of the problem," Matt admitted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "All of the bugs weren't worked out of it. I thought that we could call the police's special ops, since we have two Commissioners here." He stood up and took Cheshire's hat, belt, and some things around his ankles and wrists from him. "I don't know what device is letting him teleport."

"Strip him then," Bruce said, shrugging and then glaring when Terry and Matt shared looks of horror. "Better safe than sorry. I'm sure there's rope or something around here in a janitor's closet."

The idea seemed to strike Terry and Matt at the same time, and so quickly they said, "Rock, paper, scissors... Shoot!"

"You cheated," Terry grumbled, setting off to get some rope as Matt smiled.

"Don't smile just yet," Bruce warned, injecting something into the Jabberwock. "Hopefully that will knock him out for a few hours."

Matt nodded and called the cops; soon they could hear the sirens. Terry re-entered and tied up Cheshire and any of the others that he could. After a few minutes, the police had surrounded them.

"Here goes," Matt said quietly, de-activating the force field. What happened next was... interesting, to say the least. Most of the Carroll Gang was shouting, struggling against the ropes Terry had tied around them, Cheshire was trying to move, obviously, but couldn't teleport and it was driving him crazy. Jabberwock had just collapsed onto the desk, destroying it. Dick and Barbara were talking to the special forces, and Terry was talking to Tim about something.

"Schway," Neil murmured to Matt, watching as the criminals were taken away. "But that's not all of them."

"I know," Matt said quietly. "But the police will find the others, now that they can interrogate."

"Still..." Neil shook his head, "What made them do that? What made them so extreme and insane?"

"... That... is a very good question," Matt murmured, looking at the Carroll Gang. He walked over to Cheshire, who everyone was ignoring. He was screaming at this point, thrashing, the ropes biting into his bare skin. "You're just hurting yourself," Matt said it quietly to him. "Why are you doing this?"

"She'll cut off our heads," he said, looking at Matt, the look of desperation in his eyes. "She'll kill us all, she doesn't have to be near us to do it."

"How?" It didn't occur to Matt to doubt.

"All the world is a stage," Cheshire said, practically gulping air as he giggled. "You will never get the script from us."

Neil joined Matt, hearing their entire conversations. "How? How can--"

Cheshire gasped and his eyes bulged... "He's having a seizure!" Neil shouted, and Matt noticed everyone was rather busy trying to help the other members of the gang... who were all doing the same.

What to do?

An idea occurred to him, desperate and crazy, but he grabbed Cheshire by the hair and lifted him so that they could see eye to eye. _"I am your king,"_ Matt snarled, angry now. He had won, nobody was going to have a mass suicide beat him. "_And I command that you release the bond on them."_

_"Now!"_ Neil snapped, understanding what his friend was doing.

A few agonizing seconds passed before the seizures ended. None of the members of the Carroll Gang were harmed.

Cheshire suddenly grinned at Matt, the famous broad grin that the Cheshire Cat was famous for, "Just takes incentive, doesn't it, sire?"

Matt let go of him and stepped away. These people were sick, and the sooner they were gone, the better. Though... he was sick too, in a way. Well, had been, until forcing himself through that mental barrier had 'cured' him. He watched them drag the criminals away, sitting on a chair, weary.

All of this was his fault. He was stupid, just like he had thought; worthless stupid, weird... if he didn't exist, that gang wouldn't have, his mother would be alive, everything would be fine... Everything was his fault because he was too weak and--

_WHAP._

"Ouch!" Matt rubbed his head. It had been a while since Bruce had hit him with the cane.

"You were zoning out, eyes moving all around. What were you thinking?"

Talk about deja vu. Matt could see Dick looking over, obviously remembering the scene at the apartment too.

Matt looked down, but before the entire scene from the apartment could play out again, he mumbled, "I was thinking how this is all my fault. How I'm stupid, worthless, weird. How if I didn't exist, everything would be better for everyone else."

Terry started shouting denials, the words, once again, just turning into a buzz.

But Bruce's voice was still clear, despite it being low, "Everyone feels that way sometimes. How people wouldn't die if it weren't for you, how you screw up everything in life no matter what you do. You drive everyone away, because you think they bring you down or you'll hurt them."

Matt looked at Bruce, not noticing that everyone in the room was doing the same thing in obvious surprise. "Yeah," Matt said quietly. That was it, exactly.

Bruce clapped a hand on his shoulder and stood to leave, "It's better to accept that fact and embrace the people that won't let you alone. Because when you get your wish, it's not what you ended up wanting after all. They're still not safe. People will still die. And you won't be there to do what little you could have." He left the room, not looking back.

Matt looked at Dick and Tim, who were looking after the old man. "Like father, like son," Matt murmured quietly, causing them to look at him. "You guys too. You learned everything from him."

Terry smiled and clapped his brother's shoulder, "Including how to be so damn stubborn to not give in first?"

"Yeah," Matt said, glad that Terry understood what he had meant.

Dick and Tim shared looks, obviously wanting to protest. Barbara glowered stubbornly.

"He won't live forever," Matt said, shrugging. "But it's your choice." He looked at Neil, "Want to hit up Mr. S?"

"After all this stuff that happened? _Yes._"

"Mr. S?" Terry asked, looking at the two, who shared mock looks of horror.

"You don't know the Pour House?"

"And he calls himself a Gothamite. For shame." Neil shook his head, "Come on, let's show him what a real cafe is."

"Yeah. Jeez, and he's older than me."

"Age doesn't mean wise."

"Hey!" Terry protested, causing both Neil and Matt to laugh as the three of them left.

Barbara looked at Dick and Tim, and the three all sighed simultaneously.

They knew that Matt and Terry were right. They didn't have to like it, but they knew he was right. Tim gave a weak smile, "It'll be good for all of us old folks. Come on."

Dick and Barbara nodded and they left.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Two weeks had passed since the capture in the office.

At the moment, Matt was amused, since Terry had become a frequent customer of the Pour House ever since he and Neil had brought him there. Mr. S had commented quite a few times that Terry didn't have a usual order. Apparently, his brother had decided he would try everything on the menu at least once.

The red tape and paperwork for the merge with Foxtech would take some time, but the beginning of the work was being done. Matt looked at the various things on his desk and shook his head. Terry hated paperwork. Matt could remember his older brother's loud complaints about homework, and even now the few things of paperwork he was expected to do to cover up his job at Wayne Enterprises made him have complaints and rants that made Matt laugh and Bruce whap Terry on the back of the head.

He had seen a lot more of Tim and Barbara too, plus heard more from Dick, which made Matt a bit glad. Bruce wasn't getting any younger. Those old wounds were quite deep ones, but the fact that they were trying made Matt have hope for the future.

He looked at the clock. It was a few minutes before his next appointment. He waved his hand, sending the holograms of all of the work he had been doing away. The other person in the office moved then, startling the soon-to-be CEO of Wayne Enterprises. "Ah!"

"Sorry," Superman said, giving Matt an apologetic smile. "I came a bit early and saw you working, so I thought it would be better to let you finish."

"It's okay," Matt said, calming his racing heart. "I'm sorry, you must think I'm rude-"

"I should have spoken up," Superman said easily, smiling. "Don't apologize."

Matt gave a weak grin and said, "Well... would you like anything to drink? The coffee's freshly brewed, and I was going to get some for myself."

"Well, I'll just follow your lead." Superman flashed a grin that reminded Matt of every picture of a Boy Scout he had seen as he sat in a chair. Matt put in the order for the two of them, and it soon arrived. He thanked the secretary and served both himself and the famous hero in his office.

"Thank you," Superman said, sipping the coffee. "Very tasty and well made."

"Thanks," Matt said, a bit embarrassed. "You're probably wondering why I called you."

"I didn't even know you knew my phone number," Superman admitted. "But I am curious about why you wanted a professional meeting. Especially when you specified that it would just be us two."

"Well, our company has had a known philanthropist as the CEO for a long time," Matt explained quietly. "Bruce really helped out the charitable and non-profit organizations a lot more than people knew. But I looked through the records and everything myself. Even though some things were private donations, he never really donated to the rest of you, the other heroes."

"He always said his city came first. And Gotham really isn't the best of places," Superman admitted with a sigh.

"I know that better than anyone," Matt said, sipping his coffee. "But your group, the Justice League, is about the world at large. I'm a Gothamite, I don't always trust cops, but heroes? I know personally you guys always try your best despite your flaws and disagreements. Any time heroes show up, we know the day will be saved, even if there is collateral damage done. We know that you guys will help us."

Superman blushed; it was funny. This young man had said things that many famous mayors and presidents and other world leaders had, but for some reason, it felt different to hear those words coming from Matthew McGinnis.

"So I thought it would be best that our company begins to give back to those that have always given to others and never asked anything in return. I'd like to let you know that if you need financial assistance with the League, we will help you. Any technology we develop, even if it's simple, we will inform you of in case someone steals it. Basically, we'll be an open book to you, to show that we are honest."

Superman was surprised, "Well, I won't say no to that, but deals do usually have a condition. I know we've always helped, but for some reason I think you might want something else for this."

"Am I that obvious?" Matt blushed a bit and then said quietly, "I admire all of you. I always have. But... heroes are so distant. I will fund the League the best I can, but I'd like you guys to help a bit. There are so many in this country, not to mention the world, in need for basic things like shelter and food and water. Maybe your powers can help them make better houses, help with developments... I mean, it's because of you people are alive, but..." Matt trailed off. Superman was looking at him intently, as if studying him. Matt looked at the desk, feeling like a fool.

Who did he think he was? Asking one of the most powerful people in the universe to build houses and other things. He really was a fool...

"I think it's brilliant," Superman said quietly, startling Matt and making him look at the hero. "All of this time we've been fighting for humanity for our own personal reasons... but now instead of just doing that, we can help people in real ways and give ourselves another real reason to fight." Superman wasn't smiling or kidding in any way, shape or form. He looked serious and that convinced Matt more than anything that the hero wasn't trying to make him feel better. "I'll tell the rest of the League, but I can guarantee that this will pass our end with flying colors." Superman stood, his coffee finished. "In fact, I'll tell them now. I'll be back to finalize everything tomorrow, if that's okay?"

"That fast?" Matt was surprised.

"Of course. It's a good idea. I think it's best we implement it as fast as we can," Superman said, serious. When Matt nodded, the hero flew off, top speed, some things in Matt's offices falling due to the after-effect.

The young man picked them up and almost jumped at the voice that said, "Well done." He turned-Bruce was there.

"How long have you been here?" Matt asked, eyes wide in surprise.

"For a while," Bruce said simply. "A deal with the Justice League?"

"I was going to tell you, but I wanted to get their okay first-" Matt began, worried that Bruce was going to take offense.

"I have said you'll be taking over," Bruce said it simply. "What kind of leader are you going to be if you need to check in with me for everything?"

"Nobody could ever replace you," Matt said softly, knowing it was impossible for him to fill Bruce Wayne's shoes. Terry was better than him-everyone had accepted him as the Dark Knight, as the Batman. He was just going to be some kid, always compared to Bruce Wayne. He knew this, but for his brother, he would take the comparisons and scoffs.

Bruce just whapped Matt with his cane, making the younger man wince, and looked over the various things himself, nodding. Later that day, Matt left and went to the Pour House, where Neil was waiting.

"You look down," Neil said simply, giving his friend a look of concern. "Still worrying about them?"

Matt thought about it. He knew Neil meant the Carroll Gang. After a few seconds he said, "Well, I guess they'll always be a worry, but right now... I'm just worrying about the future."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not Bruce Wayne," Matt said with a sad sigh. "I'm not as smart or anything. Taking over his company... I'm always going to be in his shadow. And my brother... he's married and everything. I mean, it sounds stupid, but I think I'll always feel inadequate.

"They are big footsteps to follow," Neil said softly, causing Matt to nod in agreement. "But you're right. You're not Bruce Wayne or Terrance McGinnis. You're Matt McGinnis. And personally, that's more than enough for me. _You're _my friend, not Wayne or anyone else. Besides, I didn't see anyone else think of a way to catch those creeps. You don't need to be them, you've got enough crap being you."

Matt's lips twitched in the faintest of smiles. Neil was right. "I guess that being plain old Matt McGinnis will have to be enough, won't it?"

"Exactly." Neil smiled and looked over at the counter, "Hey, Mr. S, can we get something to eat?"

"Yeah, yeah, impatient brat," Mr. S said good-naturedly, making Neil and Matt grin. "Hold your horses." A few moments later, Mr. S laid the stuff down on the table and sat with the boys, "Your brother should be here soon, and someone else called too. Said his name was Lucius?"

"Yeah, Lucius Fox, he's a friend," Matt said.

"He's a schway dude," Neil agreed.

"Well, they're coming here. Keep this up and I might have to expand my business," Mr. S said with a grin. The others arrived, and then Tim and still more people arrived as well, and soon, Matt was at a table, mixing up conversations about friends, family and business and Mr. S was running around serving and contributing to the conversations and laughter.

Matt's thoughts moved away from the conversations for a brief moment.

It was true. He wasn't Bruce. He wasn't Terry.

He wasn't really anyone different, yet somehow he had found his own niche, had found people that respected and liked him for who he was, odd history, issues and all.

And right now, and he was sure in the future, that would be all that mattered. Though a few other thoughts nagged at him, though he knew he couldn't do much about them. He had to trust others for this, despite not liking it much.

And those thoughts were: _Who exactly was in charge of the Carroll Gang? And where are the ones that weren't caught two weeks ago?_

Worrying would do nothing. He would let the police and the heroes do their duty, and he would do his best to give them a people worth fighting for.

He was a businessman, a brother, a friend and associate... he was a plain, ordinary human.

He was just Matt McGinnis. And that was enough.


	12. Postlude

**Postlude:**

"'The circumstances of the world are continually changing, and the opinions of men change also; and as government is for the living, and not for the dead, it is the living only that has any right in it. That which may be thought right and found convenient in one age, may be thought wrong and found inconvenient in another. In such cases, who is to decide, the living, or the dead?'"

The shadows covered the group that were meeting and they were silent, listening to their leader.

"That was said once about government. Our leaders are being controlled by the age past. That age is inconvenient for us now, but they do not see it."

"But our kings desire to work with those people that call themselves hero, Majesty," someone said from the crowd. "They do not want us."

"Their minds are clouded," the Red Queen said simply. "But they shall see. We do not give up. We do not quit or leave our brethren. We shall save our brothers and sisters they tried to lock away. And then we shall serve Justice to those that would corrupt our leaders."

She looked over them all and the remaining members of the Carroll Gang nodded as one.

"Let them think they have won, for now. We gather and wait. For this is our world! I have said it twice: That alone should encourage you. This is our world! I have said it thrice: What I tell you three times is true."

As one, knowing the tradition and ritual, the gang replied:

"Is all our Life, then but a dream

Seen faintly in the goldern gleam

Athwart Time's dark resistless stream?

Bowed to the earth with bitter woe

Or laughing at some raree-show

We flutter idly to and fro.

Man's little Day in haste we spend,

And, from its merry noontide, send

No glance to meet the silent end."

Their business concluded, their mission understood: lay low and be patient until their Queen summoned them once more.

In a jail cell across the city, the police stared at the members of the Carroll Gang that were in their prison. All of them had just simultaneously recited some weird poem..

But what really disturbed the police was the fact that all of the members of the Carroll Gang... were now just sitting quietly and smiling. It was creepy and weird, but after a few hours, the oddness had been forgotten and the officers had moved on to the more threatening prisoners while the members of the Carroll Gang continued to just sit and watch, silent and patient.


End file.
